


Damn, Zazz

by GamblingDementor



Category: Firebringer - Team StarKid
Genre: 4+2, Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Pre-Canon, Slice of Life, implied pre canon Zazzalil/Keeri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-30 00:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19030939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GamblingDementor/pseuds/GamblingDementor
Summary: Four times Jemilla wanted to make out with Zazzalil and twice she actually did.Fills some tiny gap in canon, as well as before and after it. Fluffy af, don't hold it against me. Jemilla's point of view because she's the babe.





	Damn, Zazz

**Author's Note:**

> My first Firebringer fic! It might not be the last depending on how this is received.

"Damn, Zazz, did you climb up there all on your own?"

Zazzalil gave Jemilla a ridiculously proud upside down grin from the tree branch where she was hanging from by the calves. Her face was very pink.

"Pretty cool, right?" She thrust her limp body back and forth. "It's called swinging. Wanna try it?"

She gestured to the branch which still had lots of room left.

"Oh, I'd love to try it," Jemilla said, hands on her hips, "Because I have absolutely nothing else to do like _work_ … Oh wait, yes I do and so do you! Get down right now!"

Zazzalil laughed at her right in her face.

"Come on, _great leader_ , don't you wanna take a break for once? Just a little while?"

"No, I don't, because I love my work." Jemilla retorted with mood. " _You're_ supposed to be collecting nuts and berries."

"Oh, I've done that."

She contorted herself up to take something from her shoe and showed it off to Jemilla. A small handful of nuts was in her palm. Jemilla made to grab them but the hand was swiftly closed and pulled out of reach. Zazzalil shrugged, which from her compromised position looked dangerous and unstable to Jemilla. She reached out to try and help her down but Zazzalil wouldn't budge. Of course.

"Great, cause *that'*ll be enough to feed everyone."

"Keeri's collecting berries right now."

"It's a two person job. Give me those..."

That was asking for too much cooperation from her, of course. Zazzalil twirled her body away from Jemilla, pulling herself up in a show of strength and flexibility to sit on the branch.

"Come and get them," she retorted with way too much sass to Jemilla's taste.

She wasn't going to stoop to Zazzalil's level, she could not reach such lows (or, in this situation, heights, she supposed). The dignified thing to do would be to leave now and later, when Molag and her would be on their own, she would whine about stubborn little Zazzalil for a while, feel better and all would be well. It wasn't good to dwell on bickerings. The only way was to walk away.

"I said, give them here!" She hissed and lept up a few times in an attempt to take them from Zazzalil.

She managed to brush against the rim of Zazzalil's dress but not much more, which prompted much too much laughter from the little disobedient annoyance herself. It was a to and fro of trying to get her down and Zazzalil responding by moving away just enough to avoid her grasp but not that much that the fight was won entirely, like the fun part was Jemilla's struggle itself and not the win. Finally, when Jemilla started to climb on a low branch to try and grab the nuts and Zazzalil saw her demise coming, she shoved the whole handful in her mouth. Grinning wickedly with puffed up cheeks, she wriggled her fingers at Jemilla.

"Shorry, Dshay-Millsh, I'm out of nutsh," she replied through too big a mouthful.

"UGH!"

Jemilla glared at her, which only made Zazzalil smile all the wider − with a mouth full of nuts, the sight was exceedingly gross. Her head up in the air dramatically, Jemilla swirled around and left to get back to the rest of the tribe. Oh, how much she would have to rant about with Molag tonight. Behind her, she could hear Zazzalil burst into laughter. That made her all the angrier and she walked away even more briskly to save the last shreds of her dignity.

" _Oh, fuck!_ " She heard behind her.

Just in time, she turned back to observe Zazzalil who, from too much laughing, had fallen down with a soft thud down on the grass below. Her ass was up in the air, face planted against the ground as she groaned plaintively. Then, then it was Jemilla's turn to laugh.

She gave it a minute or two before she helped Zazzalil up to her feet and made sure she was safe.

* * *

Later in life, Molag had started to tell stories more than once and periodically, the whole tribe gathered around her to hear once again the great tales of her glorious past, wars she had led, battles she had won, fiends she had brought down. Other stories, while just as entertaining, were somewhat less savory.

"Now, my fourth husband," she told them, all eyes on her as they waited for the night to fall in the safety of their cold wet cave, "He was a darlin'. Died trampled by a mammoth when I looked away for five seconds…" She smiled fondly. "But he was great. He had such a huge…" She gestured. "Heart…"

Tiblyn looked confused and Smelly Balls whispered in her ear an explanation that seemed to leave her shocked. Keeri and Zazzalil were as they always were, muttering and giggling between the two of them. Jemilla tried not to frown.

"And then there was my fifth husband. What a pest. He died…"

"Hey, Jemilla," Keeri interrupted.

Molag glared at her for the interruption but, shrugging, she gestured at Jemilla that she now had the floor.

"What is it, Keeri?" She replied evenly.

"How come you have zero husbands or wives?"

That had all eyes on Jemilla, which normally she wouldn't mind but in this specific instance, could have done without. Zazzalil snorted. Leaning into Keeri, she whispered in her ear but loud enough that everyone would still hear it.

"Maybe she used to have one but she bored them to death."

Jemilla looked at her and shook her head.

"Damn, Zazz, that's absolutely right," she said, dragging her voice in annoyance. "I had one but I buried him next to Molag's fifteen husbands, you caught me."

Keeri laughed, but she was still looking at Zazzalil like _she_ was the funniest person in this tribe − and, begrudgingly, Jemilla told herself that most likely, she was.

"She probably made him work all day _and_ all night, am I right?"

Keeri kept laughing but a bit confused now.

"Like, make him collect nuts?"

Zazzalil shook her head with a fond smile and even Molag huffed in mirth.

"Chorn."

Jemilla perked up and pointed at Chorn with satisfaction.

"You're right, Chorn," she said. "I _was_ focusing on my leader duties. I could get married whenever I want."

Zazzalil looked dubious about that, which made Jemilla feel some sort of way she didn't know how to interpret. She chose to ignore it. Keeri wasn't quite as easily led away.

"But like, why aren't you married right now?"

Zazzalil glanced between Keeri and Jemilla as though she was uncertain of what to say and though it looked like she was burning to launch some snarky remark in Keeri's ear for everyone to hear again, she settled for just smirking at Jemilla, waiting for her answer. Jemilla gulped.

"I… I mean…"

She looked around. She had always been waiting for the right person, but more and more, it seemed that a specific person she'd had in mind would in fact never be the right one. Turning to the side, she cried out.

"Schwoopsie!"

Schwoopsie had been busy cleaning her nails with some sharp piece of rock but looked up at being called on.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to be my wife?"

Schwoopsie was startled and looked at the rest of the group, but seeing all eyes on her, she shrugged.

"Sure, yeah."

Jemilla smiled, looking at Zazzalil smugly.

"There," she said. "Now who's not good enough to get married?"

* * *

Jemilla wasn't disliked by her tribe. As far as she could tell, she was even appreciated. She expected much from her tribe members, of course, but she also showed them compassion when they were struggling and she always tried to be friendly more so than bossy. They trusted and liked her and she gave her love back all the same. They had been close before Molag handed her the reigns and had remained so when she became the leader. She wasn't an unpopular chief.

There was something about Zazzalil, however, that made her so especially beloved by all. Unfortunately, that included herself.

"Check this out," Zazzalil grinned, brandishing a blade of grass in front of her face to show Keeri. "I've just got an idea."

"Zazzalil," Jemilla reminded gently, "It's almost night. We'll have to go back to the cave pretty soon."

Zazzalil merely gave her a glance before shrugging cockily and going back to her blade of grass. Trapping it between her thumbs, she put it in front of her mouth and blew. At first, it only made a fart noise, which already had Keeri smiling, but she blew harder and some sort of whistling came out. Everyone's head turned in startle and, Jemilla noted, delighted interest. That again included herself. Zazzalil's ideas were _something_ , for sure.

"Music pleases the Duck," Ducker said, nodding reverently.

They all made a circle around Zazzalil who kept blowing, gradually gaining some sort of control over the sounds she made with her new instrument. Chorn began to add some rhythm by periodically adding a "Chorn!" to the wordless song Zazzalil was making up and Smelly Balls was nodding his head along.

"Damn, Zazz," Jemilla said, impressed. "Quite the musician."

Zazzalil grinned.

"Thanks!"

She went back to the melody she'd been playing. It was late and getting dark, of course. It was cold and it would be time to protect themselves from the night soon. Any minute, they'd have to. Jemilla knew that, yet she couldn't quite bring herself to interject and put an end to the little spontaneous concert. Zazzalil had this way of making her ideas so appealing sometimes.

"Those privileged fucks," Molag grumbled. "Back in my days, you had no music, you just enjoyed the howling of the wind."

Jemilla smiled at her kindly. Molag handed her her stick to play with and they sat there quietly, peacefully. Any minute now.

"Achoo!"

A shiver ran through Keeri's body and Zazzalil stopped playing immediately. The blade of grass forgotten, she wrapped an arm around Keeri's shoulders.

"Damn it, Keeri, you're freezing! Hey, is it time to go back to the cave yet?"

Jemilla bit her lip and stood up.

"Yes! Yes, let's go inside."

She helped Molag up and watched Zazzalil rub Keeri's arms up and down to try and warm her up. Then she looked away.

* * *

"Jay, you look tense."

Jemilla had spent another fruitful day ruling over her new tribe. All of them were sweet and patient and kind. Her advice was listened to faithfully and everyone got on with everybody. They had made her a throne of branches and clay and every day she sat atop it to hear the pleas of her people and answer them with justice and compassion. She was appreciated, even worshipped. It felt good to be received, to guide people in peace like she had always wanted to. And yet.

"Yes, Clark," she admitted. "I'm just thinking about someone from my old tribe again. It's, it's nothing."

Clark stood behind her and began gently rubbing her shoulders, her back. She sighed in contentment.

"You know how I love listening to you."

She looked up to smile at him. He smiled back. His smile, much like every single aspect of his person, was perfect. Jemilla had not been used to perfection before.

"It's just about this… this girl. Woman, really, but she always acted like a child."

"Tell me more," he said, leaning to drop a light kiss against her shoulder.

"Zazzalil," she said and didn't know why the name evoked so many emotions inside herself, most of which she had never asked for, not when she lived around her and definitely not now. "Her name is Zazzalil."

"Zazzalil," he repeated.

His voice was deep and soothing and a massage all on its own. Combined with the actual massage he was treating her to, she ought to feel completely happy. She ought to feel nothing missing.

"She was stubborn and she never respected me and she always hung out with that other girl to get into some crazy bad shit."

Clark pushed a little deeper on her shoulders which made her moan in satisfaction.

"I'm sorry, love," he said. "This Zazzalil sounds like a piece of work."

"Yes!" She cried out. "She was! She never listened to me… Can you rub a little bit more to the left?"

He rubbed a little bit more to the left. He always did everything exactly like Jemilla wanted, often without her even asking.

"Perfect," she sighed.

" _You're_ perfect," he said and kissed her again. "Jay, you never have to worry about Zazzalil ever again."

But that only made Jemilla more tense than before. She hated it.

She heard footsteps in the grass and Claire was at their side, a hand cupping Jemilla's face to give her a gentle kiss. Everyone was so soft with her around here, always respected her in every way.

"Are you upset, love? You look upset."

She knelt down. Removing Jemilla's shoes, she began rubbing her feet. No one had ever rubbed her feet before.

"She was telling me about her old tribe…"

"Is this about Zazzalil?" Claire asked, cocking her head as if lightly scolding Jemilla, but her fingers were still busy massaging her, uselessly attempting to rub away any tension. "Oh, I wish you'd stop thinking about her, Jay. You're only hurting yourself more."

"You're right, you're right… Damn Zazz…"

Claire smiled compassionately. She carefully put back Jemilla's shoes. Standing up, she offered her hands for Jemilla to stand and after kissing her, she stroke her hair and looked into her eyes. Claire was the perfect wife.

"She's really got you worked up, hasn't she?"

Jemilla sighed again.

"I can't help it."

Behind her, Clark was embracing her by the waist, his strong torso pressed against her back, face tucked into her neck warmly.

"Tell you what," Claire said. She reached up to grab the headdress, "You can take this off and go enjoy a quiet night with the kids, okay? Just having fun? Does that sound nice?"

Jemilla nodded.

"That sounds amazing, Claire."

"I'll make dinner," Clark said. "How's that?"

Perfect. Everything with the Neanderthals was always so perfect. They appreciated her, loved her. She thought of Zazzalil, but told herself the ache would never leave if she kept indulging in it. And she did indulge in it much too often.

"Just everything I want," she lied and went to spend time with the kids.

* * *

They had reconciled, and more, but even in the urgency of having to run back to Snarl's lair, Jemilla was longing for Zazzalil.

They had no time to lose to go save the tribe, she had to remind herself. Looking at Zazzalil at her side, she wanted nothing more than to waste days away here, just the two of them in the middle of nowhere, but Zazz was almost done with the spears and soon they would, she supposed, have to go save that outsider or something. If they really had to.

"I really think those could work," Zazzalil said, smiling up at Jemilla as she fixed a sharp stone on the stick she was holding. "Right, babe?"

Jemilla could only smile back, staring at her in wonder. _Babe_. That felt good. It felt right. A little flame sparked up inside herself.

"They're totally gonna work, babe," she replied and the fire got hotter.

Zazz's tongue was sticking out a little as she focused on her work - Jemilla asked herself if she had ever seen her so applied to doing anything at all, ever. Maybe that one time they had found Mighty Ducklings in the pond and Zazzalil and Keeri had appointed themselves the ducklings' mommies for a few days before the ducklings flew the fuck away from them, but even that had been more Keeri's thing that Zazz's. But this, this hunting and spear and fire thing, this was all Zazzalil's entirely. Jemilla was entranced.

"Here," Zazz said, handing her the now finished spear. "That's yours."

Jemilla poked the pointy end with her finger - it came back bloody. Perfect. Their hands touched around the stick and Jemilla stopped Zazzalil's there, covering it with hers. Their eyes met. They had so little time to lose, and yet...

"Damn, Zazz," she said. "You did a _damn. Good. Job_."

Zazz gave a little self conscious shrug, like she couldn't quite fully admit that she was a genius sometimes. A lot of the times, in fact. More often than Jemilla had ever given her credit for. She threw the spear to the ground.

"What the fuck, Jemilla?! I worked really hard on..."

But Jemilla took her hands in hers. Taking a step into Zazz's space, she trapped her between herself and a tree and pinned the hands above their heads.

"... that shit..."

Zazzalil gulped, eyes widening mad the closer Jemilla pressed herself against her - and that was very close indeed. Freeing one of her hands, she touched Zazzalil's face. A frantic heartbeat was pulsing hard under her palm, matching her own. She stroke her thumb across her cheek, smooth to the touch and burning hot. She had never been this close to Zazzalil, she didn't think she had. There were a lot of firsts they had never had. Not yet.

It only made sense that they met in the middle. Zazzalil, little rebellious thing, wouldn't even grant Jemilla the right to initiate their first kiss and Jemilla loved her all the more for it. The fire within her matched Zazzalil's perfectly and now they were finally burning with it together. It had only taken much too long to be kindled already. Jemilla relented her grasp on Zazz's hands. Immediately she was rewarded with an embrace, Zazzalil clutching her back tightly like a big sloth, only with less fur. Well, Jemilla had never kissed a sloth before but she was quite certain that she was living the better choice of the two.

Gently, she cupped the back of Zazzalil's head to protect her from rough bark behind. She tugged at the ponytail and felt Zazzalil smile into the kiss. Her other arm wrapped around her waist, any space between them swallowed in the kiss and though they said not a word, Jemilla felt like they were both making promises to later do well on the marriage offer and especially certain aspects of it. Their bodies were pressed as close as two people could possibly be without... But they did not have the time, not right now. They had some outsider to rescue for better or for worse, and Jemilla had a tribe to reunite with. They had urgent responsibilities and duties and for the first time in her life, Jemilla found that none of that serious shit mattered all that much. No, the reason that all this needed to be done was simple. After it all, she would take Zazz for her new wife. They could have all the time they wanted then.

Reluctantly, she broke the kiss, only for Zazzalil to draw her back in and the fire consumed a little longer. When she pulled back again, Zazzalil's face was burning red. She felt the blush under her palm, its heat spreading to herself, and wondered if she looked anything as disheveled as Zazz. She certainly felt like it.

"I think we have to go save that outsider..."

Slowly but dutifully, Jemilla nodded and stepped back from their embrace.

"Yes, I suppose we do."

Zazzalil took a few shaky steps to pick up the forgotten spears from the ground and handed them one to her with a little smile that looked almost shy. It wasn't like her at all, but then, what Zazzalil was seemed to have grown and evolved with time and Jemilla did not let it surprise her. Returning the smile, she clang their spearheads together.

"Let's go save our tribe!"

* * *

The village took much longer to be rebuilt than it had taken to be burned down. It was better too, of course, Zazzalil's little touches of new technology here and there and it took many days before finally, everyone had their own dry and warm place to spend the night. Fire, she had found out, could be contained inside without burning the place to the ground if you protected it well enough. They had built a few little huts and each of them had their own small bundle of fire safely tucked in a narrow pit of dirt. Better yet, Emberly had discovered that if you put food next to the fire, not only did it taste much better once you ate it but also its scent made the huts stink way less. Jemilla was filled with pride when she breathed in deep the nice and warm smell of her newly refound tribe. Night was about to fall and she wasn't afraid at all. She felt brave. She felt strong.

Hands reached up from behind to cover her eyes and she yelped in terror.

"Jeez, babe, don't die on me!"

She relaxed into Zazzalil's touch, the way her short arms embraced her so perfectly.

"I'll try," she said, smiling. "Babe, what are you doing?"

Zazzalil took a step forward that Jemilla had to match so she didn't collapse forward.

"Showing you our new home," Zazzalil replied excitedly like she had just invented fire all over again. "It's a surprise!"

Jemilla wanted to laugh.

"I've seen the hut before," she replied evidently and tried to free herself from Zazzalil's blindfold. "I helped build it."

Zazzalil strengthened her hold.

"Don't peek!"

"It's not peeking, I've seen it already."

"Shush."

She took another step but Jemilla stood in place for the joke of it and for the way Zazzalil's body tucked itself against hers from the back. But Zazz pushed sharply and she just had to take another step to her own hut she had spent the better part of the past week building.

"I've _seen_ it," she repeated. "Babe, I brought the furs for our bed just an hour ago. I watched you build our fire and everything, I was there for it all."

A kiss blessed the back of her shoulder as Zazz guided her towards the hut.

"Then act surprised."

By the packed dirt beneath her feet, Jemilla knew they had reached the threshold. One of Zazzalil's hands left her eyes for the time it took for her to pull open the veil of threaded leaves that was their door but to play the game along, Jemilla closed her eyes until Zazzalil covered them again.

Outside had been warm enough, late afternoon of a long summer day, but inside the hut was _hot_. Jemilla could hear the soft crackling of the fire and smell the scent of…

"Surprise!"

Zazz dropped her hands from Jemilla's face. Blinking a few times, she found herself in a field of flowers. Not a field, she supposed, not really, but enough that Zazzalil must have spent some inordinate amount of time cutting them and arranging them in all parts of the home. The sweet scent was filling up her brains and heart and she found herself smiling dumbly before realizing Zazzalil was looking at her expectantly.

"So, do you love it so much?"

Jemilla stared at Zazzalil, at this house that was now theirs until a storm or beast tore it down. She took a step towards her, grabbing her by the waist.

"Damn, Zazz. Did you spend all day doing this? All this _work_ on your own?"

Zazzalil grinned. Jemilla took a step forward and now Zazzalil had to match it back. Slowly, clunkily, she was pushed till the back of her knees hit the fur-covered bench of dirt that would be their bed.

"But you like it, right?" She was rambling, even more so when Jemilla cupped her face to hold her close and look deep into her eyes. "I think it's super pretty and…"

Jemilla kissed her. She kissed her and kissed her and lowered her down under her on their little bed and kissed her.

"Yeah," she said, feeling her breath come short already. "Yeah, pretty."

She kissed her again and here in their own little home, two hearts beating as one, flowers everywhere and love bursting from every part of her, the fire burned all night long.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE leave a comment if you've read this and enjoyed it! It means the world to get feedback.


End file.
